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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283048">Confinement at 201</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind'>Magnetism_bind</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Sails</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(technically sorta), Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anxiety, Confinement Challenge, Developing Friendships, Flirting, Late Night Conversations, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Modern Era, Phone Sex, Sexual Tension, Sunbathing, Texting, Voyeurism, Water Balloon Fights, lockdown worries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:34:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: S22<br/>Flint and Silver are neighbours, but haven’t spoken before. They both have gardens and can see each other through gaps in the fence. During the lockdown (because of a disease), Silver and Flint become aware of each other in close proximity but separated by the garden fence. So begins an odd flirtation involving sunbathing and topless gardening and water fights. Mood: Sexual tension. Flirting. Maybe voyeurism?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Black Sails Confinement Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Confinement at 201</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All I have to say is, OP I hope you're okay with the voyeurism cause it definitely happens. Thanks for the prompt! I hope I did it justice.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>It’s getting to him even if he doesn’t want to admit it. The whole fucking situation. A week of this this is bad enough but now that it’s the fourth week and looks to be going on even longer well…</p>
<p>Silver flings open the door to the back garden and takes a deep breath of air. At least today finally smells like summer. The dregs of winter have lasted too long. Spring was barely a blip. Rain and wind keeping him inside the house for most of the quarantine. Now at last, he can go outside.</p>
<p>He takes a blanket out into the back garden and stretches it out. In spite of the perfect weather, the gardens belonging to the neighbors on either side of him are quiet. At least he doesn’t have to worry about small talk. It's hard enough to manage that even when the world isn't fucked. </p>
<p>Silver breathes in the scent of the day and almost wants to cry with relief at how good it smells.  The air is soft and clear. He closes his eyes and lets it wash over him, calming the tension in his body. As he relaxes, he thinks, <em>I can survive this….as long as the weather stays nice, I can get through this.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s the third day of Silver sunning himself. He’s fallen into a pattern of taking a paperback and a cider out into the garden where he reads and drinks his cider until he starts feeling sleepy, and then he goes inside for an afternoon workout or a nap, whichever he feels like. </p>
<p>Today the warmth of the sun is getting to him. He discards his shirt quickly enough, rubbing on some sunscreen before turning on his stomach and folding his arms underneath his head. He closes his eyes, too lazy to even read today. The air is still, barely a hint of a breeze. It's definitely summer now.</p>
<p>He can feel the sweat prickling along the backs of his legs, along the top of his shorts. After a moment Silver sits up. He shimmies out of his shorts and tosses them aside. That’s much better. He enjoys the feel of the sun on his skin. Now he’s just in his briefs and it’s much better.</p>
<p>He stretches out on his back, resting a hand on his chest as he lazily watches a bird in the sky. He’d give anything to have that freedom right now. To just up and fly away. Instead here he is, trapped.</p>
<p>His hand drifts down over his bare stomach to the front of his briefs. Silver presses his palm to the warmth of his cock, squeezing it gently through the thin material. Fuck, it’s been too long since he went out and got laid. <em>That’s </em>what he wants. The moment this fucking lockdown is done he’s going out to the clubs. He’s going to grind up against so many strangers, kiss them all without worrying and then he’ll find someone, anyone, to pull him into the bathroom and -</p>
<p>“I can see you, you know.”</p>
<p>Silver’s eyes jerk open and he stares upward at the sky. There’s nothing up there but the clouds and the clear blue of the sky. Not even the bird he’d seen before. Where the fuck is the voice coming from? Is this when the hallucinations start? Week four?</p>
<p>There’s a dry cough and that freaks him out even more. Coughing is one of the symptoms. Who the fuck is close enough to be coughing?</p>
<p>Silver sits up, looking around the garden. “Where the fuck are you?”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry.” Says the voice. “I’m coughing safely in my own space.”</p>
<p>There’s another rasp and Silver looks sharply towards the fence. He hadn’t heard a door open since he came out to the garden which means the man must have been out there the whole time.</p>
<p>“I had a tickle in my throat. That’s all.” The voice sounds a little defensive.</p>
<p>“Alright, alright.” Silver says irritably. “Don’t get your shorts in a bunch.”</p>
<p>“You’re the one in that situation by the looks of it.” Now the voice sounds amused.</p>
<p>Silver glances down. His half hard-on is still there. The stranger’s voice, a little wry, deep with a hint of command in it, certainly isn’t hindering it. He wonders briefly what the man would do if he kept going. It’s not like the man can stop him after all.</p>
<p>“You’re the one watching me.” He points out.</p>
<p>There’s a half-rasp of a laugh. “Yeah, well, there’s nothing good on the telly is there?”</p>
<p>Silver hides a smile at that. He can’t argue with that.</p>
<p>“Besides, I didn’t realize…quite where this was going until, well you were already started.”</p>
<p>“How long have you been watching me?” Silver turns his head to look at the fence. He spots the knothole quickly enough, but there’s no face there. The man must be sitting there on the other side now. Still the thought of him looking through the fence, watching Silver as he touched himself, sends a rush of heat to his groin.</p>
<p>Yeah, there’s no way his erection is dying down now.</p>
<p>There’s no answer from the other side of the fence. Silver waits, but nothing.</p>
<p>At last he gives a slight shrug. “Well then.” He scoops up his shirt and shorts and holds them loosely in front of himself. “I’ll leave you to your voyeurism.”</p>
<p>He’s only walked a few paces when he hears the muttered response.</p>
<p>“You started it, you’re the exhibitionist.”</p>
<p>Silver nearly trips as he turns around. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He stares at the fence. “You’d have to be looking pretty damn hard to see me, whereas I am just so happen to be in the privacy of my own fucking garden. Nobody’s forcing you to look, mate.”</p>
<p>Silence again.</p>
<p>He glares at the fence.</p>
<p>“It’s not your garden though, is it?”</p>
<p>Silver blinks. “Excuse me?”</p>
<p>“It’s not your garden.” The voice sounds calm, and sure of itself. “It’s not your house, therefore it’s not your garden, therefore-”</p>
<p>“Are you a fucking lawyer or something?” Silver retorts. “What’s it fucking matter? It’s my house for the time being therefore so it’s my garden for the time being<em>, therefore</em>,” he says mockingly, “I can get naked in my garden if I so choose.”</p>
<p>Silence again. Long enough that he thinks that man’s finally gone back inside. But no, again, he would have heard the door open.</p>
<p>“Go on then.”</p>
<p>Silver blinks again. “Are you serious?”</p>
<p>“Like I said.” The voice murmurs. “There’s nothing good on telly.”</p>
<p>Silver looks around the garden like he can find the answer to this situation somewhere amongst the shrubbery.</p>
<p>“Is that some kind of challenge?” Silver’s still holding his clothes in front of his groin so it’s not like the man can even tell that he’s inordinately interested in this idea. Who knew? Well, okay, he’d known he had a little bit of an exhibitionist streak in him, but this is still new. He doesn’t even have a clue what the man looks like. Just the voice that is definitely enough to keep him interested if he had heard the man speak in a bar.</p>
<p>“What if it is?”</p>
<p>Silver bites back a laugh. Yeah, if he had met this man in a bar and he’d suggested they fuck in the toilets, Silver would have agreed in a heartbeat.</p>
<p>He decides to go with it, just for the hell of it, and lets his clothes drop to the grass.</p>
<p>In the bright warm sunshine, he suddenly feels very exposed, in spite of the fact that he’s standing here alone in the garden. His briefs stick to him like warm honey and he thinks again how he could have easily jerked off right there on the blanket in the grass if the man hadn’t interrupted him. His cock warms to the thought.</p>
<p>And now there’s nothing to hide that fact, so Silver does his best to brazen it out instead. He places his hands on his hips, just waiting.</p>
<p>“I see you like challenges.” The man remarks.</p>
<p>Silver grins. “Would you say it’s somewhat obvious?”</p>
<p>There’s a brief chuckle. “Something like that.”</p>
<p>There’s a pause in the conversation. Silver licks his lips, wondering what the man would do if he just started teasing himself through his briefs right here in front of him. and then he decides to give it a shot.</p>
<p>Boldly, he rubs his hand down the length of his cock, cupping the bulge of it just enough. The thick length of it is even more apparent now. Silver dares a look upward at the fence.</p>
<p>There’s another moment’s silence and he wonders if he’s pushed the man too far.</p>
<p>“Do you do this a lot?” The voice sounds a little hoarse, or is that Silver’s imagination. He certainly likes to think his cock is having an effect on the man next door, whoever he is.</p>
<p>“Not really.” Silver gives a little shrug. He runs his fingertips along the band of his briefs and then gives in. Sliding his hand down inside his briefs, he gives himself a long deep stroke. "First time for everything and all that."</p>
<p>His eyes have half closed without him knowing it. It takes the man clearing his throat again for Silver to open them.</p>
<p>“I’d ask what it’ll take to get those off, but I imagine very little.”</p>
<p>Silver just laughs. “I’d say you’re probably right.”</p>
<p>What the hell. He shucks his shorts off and drops them to the grass as well.</p>
<p>Now he’s just standing in the garden wearing nothing at all and an erection dying for attention. The sunshine is warm upon his skin and he tilts his face upward, savoring it.</p>
<p>“Still enjoying the show?” He asks at last.</p>
<p>At that there’s the unmistakable sound of clear amused laughter. But it’s good laughter, Silver can tell. The man’s not laughing at him, thankfully. He's not sure his dick could handle that.</p>
<p>“You’ve no idea.” The man manages at last. “If you’d told me…” he falls silent.</p>
<p>Silver waits, but the other side of the fence is silent. “Told you what?” He asks at last.</p>
<p>“I just didn’t think today was going to be like this. That's all."</p>
<p>At that, Silver laughs as well. “I know what you mean.” Still they’re in lockdown. It’s hard to know just what the day’s going to bring.</p>
<p>There’s the faintest buzz from somewhere, jerking Silver out of his reverie.</p>
<p>He glances down and sees his phone on the blanket.  He picks it up and sees the caller ID on the missed call. “Fuck.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I have to go.” Silver scoops up his clothes and heads for the house still naked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Flint leans his head against the wooden fence. Fuck, fuck, fucking hell. He really hadn’t meant to say anything. He’d been so close to keeping his mouth shut and just watching but at the same time he couldn’t <em>not</em> speak…</p>
<p>The temporary neighbor, whoever the fuck he is, he’s certainly not Max. Flint’s lived next door to Max for nearly two years now. She’s a good neighbor, even though occasionally her parties are a little more lively than Flint prefers. He’d been vaguely aware that Max had been away, but he hadn’t realized she had someone staying at her place during all of this.</p>
<p>Or that the someone was quite so attractive.</p>
<p>It’s the damn lockdown. Flint likes to think he wouldn’t have just started watching a complete stranger start to masturbate before all of this started. It’s the fact that he’s been virtually stuck inside this house over a month and not the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in…god knows how long. He starts to raise a hand to rub at his eyes and his hand freezes an inch away from his face.</p>
<p>Naturally, his eye starts twitching furiously then. With a growl he twists the inside of his shirt collar up so he can wipe his eye with it before turning his attention back to the gardening plot he’s been working at all afternoon. He keeps his attention firmly on that and not on the curly-haired exhibitionist next door.</p>
<p>It takes him till dusk to finish and only then does he go back inside to start dinner.</p>
<p>Afterwards he dashes off a quick email to Max regarding the man staying in her house. He knows the man’s probably invited to be there, but he doesn’t mind teasing Max about it. Besides it’s something to do.</p>
<p>Her response comes in the wee hours of the morning.</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s my friend, you idiot. His name is John Silver and he can be very nice. Sometimes. I suggest you get along because it looks like this thing is going to last longer than any of us would like. Be kind. Hope you are well. </em>
</p>
<p>Flint groans slightly to himself. This thing, indeed. He lies there in the dark, not wanting to get up, but unable to go back to sleep yet either.</p>
<p>At least the weather’s supposed to be better the rest of the week. He’ll be able to get his garden in good order at this rate. His last thought before he goes back to sleep is that perhaps he’ll see Silver again tomorrow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> *  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning Silver steps outside for a smoke and his coffee. The last twelve hours have been stressful as fuck and yet mindnumbingly boring as well. Waiting is the most terrible thing and it’s awful being here with no hope of doing anything. He has no way of doing anything helpful, not really. All he can do was listen to music and wait and hope. There was no chance of sleep last night and now he's groggy and exhausted and yet still awake.</p>
<p>He stares up at the morning sky with bleary eyes. It’s the softest blue. It looks so peaceful, and so completely normal. Everything seems fine when he looks at the sky. </p>
<p>He sits down on the patio chair and drinks his coffee. He stays till the cigarette’s down to the butt and then he grinds it out and sits back, closing his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something strikes his foot. Silver stirs slightly in his drowsy state but doesn’t wake. He’s too comfortable in the sunshine. He doesn’t want to get up.</p>
<p>Something pings off his ankle again and he looks up bewildered. There’s a hand resting on top of the fence, like it’s waiting for something.</p>
<p>From the other side of the fence, clear as day, he hears. “You’re going to get sunburnt.”</p>
<p>Silver stares at the hand on top of the fence. “Were you throwing rocks at me?”</p>
<p>The hand gestures a little and then disappears from sight.</p>
<p>“Unbelievable.” Silver forces himself to his feet. He does feel a trifle warm, now that he thinks about it. A cool shower is probably the way to go. Even if he was perfectly contented before he got woken up by rocks.</p>
<p>He starts to head inside and then pauses. “Thanks.” He offers the fence, feeling a trifle idiotic.</p>
<p>Does he imagine the soft grunt of acknowledgement? He doesn’t think so.</p>
<p>For no discernible reason whatsoever, he feels slightly better as he goes inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Silver goes back out later in the afternoon, returning to the same spot with a beer and his phone. He knows there might not be an update for another hour or so, but he still doesn’t like to be too far from it.</p>
<p>“So how do you know Max?”</p>
<p>Silver starts. “The fuck! Are you always out in your garden?”</p>
<p>“No, I’m just not as loud as some people.”</p>
<p>Silver takes a sip of beer. “I’m not loud.” He’s not fucking loud. Max's neighbor is just a ninja.</p>
<p>“Tell that to the birds living in your garden.”</p>
<p>“What’ve they got to do with anything?” Silver scowls. It doesn’t help that there’s a crow in the tree above him that seems to be staring at him. Silver flips him the bird and smirks. The crow gives him the beady eye. <em>Whatever</em>.</p>
<p>“They live here.” The man says. “You’re invading their space.”</p>
<p>“Shut up.”</p>
<p>A moment’s silence.</p>
<p>“What’s the deal with the phone?”</p>
<p>“Oh…” Silver looks down to where he’s still clutching his phone in his fingers. “I….”</p>
<p>Usually he’d make something up, a throwaway comment that wouldn’t mean anything. He certainly doesn’t owe the truth to a man he barely knows, heck a man he doesn’t <em>even</em> know, apart from some light flirting. Just a neighbor of a house that’s not even his. But for some reason tonight he goes with the truth.</p>
<p>“A friend of mine has it. He’s in the hospital. In New York.”  Nothing more needs to be said. The odds are as good as any, either way. But the situation in the US is not good, to say the least. His throat feels tight all of a sudden. How embarrassing would it be to cry in front of his faceless neighbor?</p>
<p>“Sorry to hear that.” The voice is gruff again, as though the man knows not to make anything too much of this admission.</p>
<p>Silver just nods. “Anyway…I thought…” He stops and looks blindly around the garden. “This is just fucking surreal.” This summer was meant to be a break, before he figured out his next gig, wherever he’d go next. He’s always felt free, or rather, any time he thought about settling down, the closed in feeling would come over him and he’d need to move fast, to do anything to make it go away. He’s never wanted to get his own place because of this feeling and now he’s fucking trapped here just because he agreed to watch Max’s house for a few months. The irony is not lost on him.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to be anywhere but where he is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Flint’s leaning against the fence, wondering what he can possibly say to help. In all honesty, he knows there’s nothing he can say. Nothing helps during this ridiculous mess of a situation.</p>
<p>He wants to say something though, to help Silver if he possibly can.</p>
<p>“If you felt like it,” Silver’s voice is quiet. “We could finish what we were doing yesterday.”</p>
<p>Flint cocks his head. “And what were we doing yesterday?” He’s pretty sure the conversation is leaning towards flirting now, but he wants to hear Silver say it.</p>
<p>“I believe you were trying to get me naked.” Silver says.</p>
<p>Flint snorts loudly enough to be heard over the fence. “I don’t recall there being any trying. You were all too ready to take your clothes off.” He pauses, “and then you did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Silver laughs out loud.</p>
<p>The neighbor’s back to his gruff former self, none of the pity or compassion that Silver was previously hearing there. Silver’s so relieved by that he can hardly stand it. All he wants now is for the man to keep going, to keep flirting and take away the constant worry in his head.</p>
<p>“I know Max through school. We were in the same art course.”</p>
<p>“Art huh?” </p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Were you the model in this class?”</p>
<p>Silver snickers. “I can paint you know.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure, I’m sure, but as models go, they could do worse.”</p>
<p>Silver hides his smirk. “Is that your way of saying you liked what you saw yesterday?”</p>
<p>“You could say that.” The neighbor says, then. “It’s Flint by the way.”</p>
<p>“Nice to put a name to the voice.”</p>
<p>It’s Flint’s turn to chuckle and Silver feels himself relax even more. How hard would it be to just let himself go…</p>
<p>“So you want to simply jump ahead to being naked again?”</p>
<p>Silver cocks his head towards the fence. “I do like a little sweet talk first.”</p>
<p>“I thought we’d covered that yesterday.”</p>
<p>“I don’t believe interrogating to me as to whether I have a right to be naked in the garden falls into the category of sweet talk.”</p>
<p>“Mm, perhaps I’m out of practice.”</p>
<p>“Been a while?”</p>
<p>“You could say that.” Flint says quietly.</p>
<p>Silver pauses. He wants to smooth this over, bring the mood back to something lighter.  Flirting. It can’t be that hard, can it?</p>
<p>“Well,” He says at last. “It’s your lucky day cause it just so happens that I’m not always that easy.”</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Flint sounds amused. “Or is that just what you’re telling yourself these days?”</p>
<p>Silver snorts. “Rude of you to call me out like this. Maybe I’m turning a new page.”</p>
<p>“This does seem like the time to start.”</p>
<p>At Flint’s utterly dry comment, Silver starts giggling and can’t stop. He bends over, resting his hands on his knees, trying not to wheeze. He can feel the tears in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Are you dying?”</p>
<p>“No.” Silver wheezes, in spite of trying not to. “I’m fine.”</p>
<p>Flint laughs. “Anyway.”</p>
<p>Silver finally manages to straighten up. His stomach hurts at this point. But overall he feels better.</p>
<p>“It’s my turn to have to go.” Flint says at last. He sounds regretful. “I have a meeting with an editor that I’ve been putting off for…well, far too long. Otherwise I'd have enjoyed sticking around to talk you out of your shorts again.”</p>
<p>“No worries.” Silver says easily. “Talk to you later.”</p>
<p>Flint pauses. “I usually have a drink later in the evening on the patio. If you care to join me.” He pauses again. “You know what I mean.”</p>
<p>Silver smiles. “It’s a date.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Flint texts Max when he goes inside.</p>
<p>
  <em>What’s your neighbor’s number?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ask him yourself.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It seems easier to ask you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t be mean to him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m not mean.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Not when you try to be nice, you’re not. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ll try.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Flint holds off on texting Silver until it’s nearly midnight. The conversation on the patio had been more enjoyable than he'd thought it would be. Silver had dragged a lawn chair over to his side of the fence and sat there, and Flint had ended up doing the same. They could talk more freely that way and it had been soothing somehow to sit there as the evening faded into dusk, just reminiscing about local pubs and the last places they had gone before the lockdown had started.</p>
<p>It had felt natural to wish Silver goodnight by the time Flint finally went inside. And it felt even more natural to text him, though Flint didn’t wish to think about why exactly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Still awake? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Who’s this?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Who do you think?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No clue.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s Flint.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Why not just say that then?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I didn’t realize you were so obtuse.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If this is your idea of flirting, it needs some work.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You need some work.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh yeah?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yeah.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Very mature.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, I am older than you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>It continues in that that vein until they both fall asleep. When he wakes, Flint realizes it's the first peaceful sleep he's had in a month.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>A few days later.</em>
</p>
<p>Silver angles himself in the tree carefully. It’s been a long time since he climbed a tree and it feels a little ridiculous but at the same time, the view is nice. He can see over the neighbor fences all the way down the street. The sky seems wider and he likes that feeling too. It makes it feel like he’s not trapped here. He just needs some fucking space. He'd been feeling a little panicky earlier, in spite of his yoga and the impulse to climb the tree at the back of the garden had been impossible to resist. Now he feels calmer at least. The breeze helps somewhat.</p>
<p>He glances down into Flint’s garden and nearly falls out of the tree.</p>
<p>Sure they’ve been mucking about flirting and whatnot, sure he nearly wanked himself off in front of the man the other day, but none of it felt real. Flint doesn't feel real. And while Silver’s been curious as to what he looked like, he's also enjoying the anonymity of it. This way at the end of this mess, they could go their separate ways and none of this would matter. He’d be gone and Flint…</p>
<p>Flint would be still be here working busily away in his garden presumably,</p>
<p>Right now the man’s crouched down over the patch of flowers Silver doesn’t recognize, weeding busily. It’s early enough that the sunlight feels nice but not oppressive.</p>
<p>Flint must feel the same because after a few minutes he sets his weeding rake aside and reaches for his tanktop. Silver’s dead silent, dry-mouthed as the man removes it, tossing it over a lawn chair. </p>
<p>Fuck, Flint is fit. Thick shoulder muscles, dappled in freckles that are brought out by the deep tan on his arms and back. Where has he been to get so tanned? You don’t get that from England’s sun. Silver’s only lived here off and on few years, but he knows that much. He’s fascinated, mesmerized by the sight of Flint’s bare skin. The way the gardening shorts ride low on his hips, letting the swell of his lower back bend and crease as he works.</p>
<p>After a while Flint sets the rake aside again and stands. He reaches for the thermos of water he brought out with him and takes a swig, wiping at his brow. He frowns at something in the distance and then looks at his watch. All the mannerisms of a man who has something else he needs to do, but he doesn’t want to face it.</p>
<p><em>Please don’t go inside yet</em>, Silver thinks, <em>please.</em></p>
<p>Of course as it so happens his leg starts cramping. He turns slightly, trying to ease the pain in his muscle and then suddenly he’s lost his balance on the tree branch and falls to the ground with a heavy thud.</p>
<p>“Ow.”</p>
<p>Silver lies there, winded, staring up at the blue sky. He’s fairly sure nothing’s broken and even if it is it’s not like he’s going to go to the hospital for that right now. Not during everything else going on. </p>
<p>“The fuck was that?”</p>
<p>Flint’s voice startles him. He must have come up closer to the fence after hearing Silver’s descent.</p>
<p>“I…fell.” Silver says faintly.</p>
<p>“Fell from where?” Flint asks, sounding genuinely confused. And then… “Hang on, were you up in that tree?”</p>
<p>“Might have been.” Silver says casually. He sits up, relieved that it doesn’t hurt. A little sore, but other than that, uninjured.</p>
<p>“Were you spying on me?”</p>
<p>Silver snorts. “It’s hardly spying when…”</p>
<p>“When what?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
<p>“When you’ve already seen me buck ass naked.”</p>
<p>“That’s…not how it works.”</p>
<p>“So tell me… how does it work?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They keep texting. They keep flirting. </p>
<p>Silver can hardly sleep for how turned on he is. It’s not as though he hadn’t been jerking off in the last month. (He hasn’t gone a month without masturbating since he discovered the pleasures of his own dick in his youth) But it’s not like he’s been super turned on either. It’s not as though this sort of situation is particularly conducive to arousal.</p>
<p>On the other hand, it doesn’t stop it either. Life does go on.</p>
<p>Sometimes just the sound of Flint’s voice makes him go hot all over. The timbre of Flint’s voice is familiar now and Silver’s attuned to the sound of his humor and the brusqueness of his occasional frustration.</p>
<p>Then there’s Flint’s, well, everything. Ever since his first glimpse of the man from the tree, Silver can’t get the image of him out of his mind. At night before he falls asleep, he pictures Flint bending over his garden plot, auburn hair pulled back in a taut ponytail, working away in his blank tanktop and gardening shorts.</p>
<p>Silver imagines how it would feel to pull that tanktop up over Flint’s head, run his hands over that chest, lick his way down to the front of Flint’s shorts before he sucks Flint’s entire cock into his mouth.</p>
<p>The fantasy varies after that. Sometimes Flint lets him suck him until he’s close and then he pulls Silver off by his hair and finishes all over his face. Sometimes Flint just lifts him and presses him face first against the wall of his garden shed, tugging Silver’s shorts down and sticking his tongue inside Silver’s ass until he screams.</p>
<p>Yet somehow, almost better than the distraction tactic of flirting and lusting is having someone to talk to late at night. The sleeplessness has been one of the worst factors. Night is when all the miseries and worries lurking around Silver's brain during the day come back to the top and he can’t push them down. They so very nearly overwhelm him, he'll be having a hard time breathing and then Flint’s text will come through, and like the rhythm of the night and the air, he can breathe again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>He's only just gotten the text about Muldoon and is sitting there on the floor of his bedroom, crying in relief when Flint texts.</p>
<p>
  <em>How’s your friend by the way?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He’s better. He’s getting sent home actually. His boyfriend’s going to take care of him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s really good. I’m glad to hear that.</em>
</p>
<p>Silver wipes at his eyes with tail of his shirt and breathes deeply<em>. </em>They are going to get through this. He wills it to be true, and then looks back at his phone.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank you for asking.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> *  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s the hottest day of the month so far. Flint can feel the sweat gathering on his neck even before he’s barely stepped outside. He’s even wearing his sunhat but it does little to protect him from the heat.</p>
<p>He squints irritably up at the sun. It’s not as though he wants the endless rain back, but this is unnecessarily warm. Why can’t there just be some fucking middle ground for once?</p>
<p>He fills his watering can from the hose and goes along the plot, watering each row in careful motions. The plants soak up the water gratefully and he considers going another round.</p>
<p>He’s just removed his hand and wiping the sweat with the back of his arm, considering the condition of his compost pile when it hits him.</p>
<p>The water is cold, and it doesn’t feel bad obviously in the heat of the day. It’s the shock that stuns Flint into silence. He stands there, spluttering silently, clutching his hat. The remnants of the balloon are on the grass in front of him.</p>
<p>And then he stares, peering more closely at the balloon before he turns back to the fence. “Did you throw a fucking condom filled with water at me?”</p>
<p>For a moment there’s no response and then Silver’s head peeks over the top of the fence. Even though Flint can’t see his mouth, he knows the smirk currently gracing Silver’s lips.</p>
<p>“I didn’t have any regular balloons.”</p>
<p>“How the fuck did you have condoms?” Flint growls. “It’s not like Max uses them.”</p>
<p>“I’ll have you know she is a gracious host who keeps all manner of protection around.” Silver leans on the fence. “But actually yes, those are mine.”</p>
<p>“And you’re wasting them on a water fight?” Flint raises an eyebrow.</p>
<p>Silver shrugs. “It’s not like they’re going to get any use any time soon.”</p>
<p>Flint considers that. “Well when you put it like that it seems almost reasonable.” He turns and heads casually towards the house. From this angle Silver can’t see him reaching for the hose and turning it back on.</p>
<p>By the time Flint turns around again, he’s got the hose coiled around his arm. He doesn’t have to go too far to start spraying.</p>
<p>Silver disappears from sight in a splutter of curses. Flint jumps up on the lawn chair that he placed next to the fence and angles the hose over the top of the fence to keep spraying him.</p>
<p>“For fuck’s sake, I threw one condom.” Silver howls. "How is this fair?"</p>
<p>“Before you start a war, you should know I generally intend to win.” Flint grins. “Those shorts don’t hide a thing when they’re wet, do they?”</p>
<p>Silver props himself up on his elbows and stares up at Flint from his position in the grass. His wet chest glistens in the sun, his curls stick to his forehead, and Flint’s first assumption was right. His dick is entirely visible through his extremely tiny, now very wet blue swim shorts.</p>
<p>It’s not exactly a problem from Flint’s point of view.</p>
<p>He switches off the hose and lets it dangle, as he just looks at Silver. The longer he looks, the more flushed Silver gets.</p>
<p>His dick presses against the swim shorts even more insistently.</p>
<p>Flint smirks at him. “Do you think I could make you come just from looking at it?” He asks almost idly.</p>
<p>“No.” Silver swallows tightly. “I don’t think so at all.”</p>
<p>“It seems like it would take very little effort.” Flint leans on the fence, just resting his elbows on it. “I bet you’re already dripping, just a little, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>“Fuck off.” Silver scowls.</p>
<p>He jumps up and goes quickly indoors before he gives in to the urge to do something truly idiotic like climbing the fence and trying to kiss Flint. They can’t kiss right now. They can’t do <em>anything</em> and it’s fucking killing Silver.</p>
<p>He darts upstairs to the bathroom and gets the shower going. Even if he and Flint can’t fuck there’s nothing stopping him from getting off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*  *  *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Silver’s just about to strip off his damp shorts, still clinging to him when his phone buzzes from the counter where he left it. He clocks Flint’s number and leans over to hit speaker. “Little busy right now.”</p>
<p>“Keep the shorts on.” Flint says. “I like thinking about how you look in them.”</p>
<p>Silver hesitates. For one thing there’s the fact that Flint knows exactly what he’s about to do. And for another…</p>
<p>“You can’t even see me.” He reminds Flint.</p>
<p>He steps into the shower with his shorts still on regardless. The feel of the cool water running over him, while he’s still barely clothed feels unbearably erotic. Silver leans his head back against the wall, as the water courses down over his chest.</p>
<p>“I don’t have to see you.” Flint murmurs. “I can imagine you perfectly.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Silver asks. “What am I doing then?”</p>
<p>He cups himself through his shorts, barely biting back a moan at the feel of his own hand. He’s so aroused he could come just from holding himself. If only it were Flint’s hand...</p>
<p>“You’ve just touched yourself, through those shorts, thinking about how it would be if it were my hand there.”</p>
<p>“Nnnrgh.” Silver says, rather more inarticulately then he’d like.</p>
<p>“That’s what I thought.” Flint’s voice sounds raw with desire. There’s the sound of water starting to run in the background.</p>
<p>Somehow the thought of Flint – <em>naked</em> – needing to jerk off as well because of Silver, sends a rush of need through him. He braces a hand against the wall trying to keep from letting his legs buckle. Fuck, he can nearly come just from thinking about Flint’s nude body. He barely needs to touch himself at all.</p>
<p>“Slow down.” Flint orders.</p>
<p>Silver gasps, both hands on the wall now. He’s not even touching himself. His dick is trying its best though, pressing against his shorts, desperate to rub against the tiled wall.</p>
<p>“I’m not even touching it.” He grits out.</p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p>“How’s that good?” Silver groans. He turns around, leaning his back against the wall now, panting as he lets the water run down his face.</p>
<p>“Because I don’t want you to come until I say so.”</p>
<p><em>Fuuuuuuuck.</em> Silver groans. He closes his eyes. “So tell me.”</p>
<p>“Tell you what?”</p>
<p>“Whatever the fuck you want.” Silver pants.</p>
<p>“Touch your nipples.”</p>
<p>He raises his hands immediately, pinching the tips of his nipples.</p>
<p>“Tell me how they feel."</p>
<p>“Like they’re waiting for you to bite them.” Silver manages. They ache, wanting attention, wanting Flint’s mouth. He pinches them, relishing the sensation shooting through him.</p>
<p>“Run your hand down the back of your shorts.”</p>
<p>Silver does, biting back another moan. He spreads his legs a little, waiting for Flint’s next command.</p>
<p>“Slide your fingers between your cheeks.” Flint’s voice is a velvet whisper in the cool of the shower.</p>
<p>If Silver closes his eyes, he can pretend Flint is right there with him.</p>
<p>“Finger your hole. Just the rim. Tease it like you’re thinking of me.”</p>
<p>“I’m already thinking of you.”  Silver groans, but he does. Teasing himself as he imagines Flint here in the shower with him, how it would feel if this was Flint’s finger stroking him gently, working him open until Flint could just slip inside. It would be so damn easy now.</p>
<p>“Put your finger inside yourself.”</p>
<p>Silver gasps, slipping one finger inside, slowly crooking his finger, making himself tremble. His knees are barely holding himself up as it is.</p>
<p>“Silver.”</p>
<p>“I’m so fucking close.” Silver gasps again. “I need you to make me come. Please, Flint.”</p>
<p>“Wrap your other hand around your cock.”</p>
<p>Silver does, shoving his hand down the front of his shorts, barely capable of holding back. Just the heat from his hand makes his cock throb in his palm. “So close.”</p>
<p>“Slowly…slowly.” Flint says. “Stroke yourself from base to tip.”</p>
<p>Silver does, and nearly comes from that motion alone. He shudders helplessly. “Flint.”</p>
<p>“Again.” Flint murmurs.</p>
<p>Silver does, shuddering a second time.</p>
<p>“Again.” Flint’s relentless.</p>
<p>“Flint.” Silver moans. “Please.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Again.”</em>
</p>
<p>When it comes at last, it’s a slow, helpless orgasm that leaves Silver wrung out and spent. He slides down on his butt in the shower, head thrown back, panting with the effort of it. His brain is blissful and blank.</p>
<p>On the other end he hears a faint groan from Flint. “Fuck.”</p>
<p>Silver grins, pushing the wet curls back from his face. “If you fuck as good as you talk, I think we’ll get along fine.”</p>
<p>Flint draws a breath. “Oh, just you wait. When this is over, I am going to fuck the living daylights out of you until you scream."</p>
<p>“Is that a promise?”</p>
<p>“Yes…”</p>
<p>Silver can think of a hundred things he wants to know about Flint. How he got so tanned. What made him want to get into journalism. What was the name of his first pet. Who was his first love. And so many many more. And one of these days he’ll be able to walk next door and simply ask all those things.  </p>
<p>And till then, well, till then they have the fence.</p>
<p> </p>
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